Chapter 3 · I Left With Nothing, Except His Baby

Emily looked at me without a word for a long moment. Finally, she sighed, "Fine. I'll help."

A week later, I moved from Riverside to Willowville, about 250 miles away.

It was a smaller city with a slower pace and cheaper rent, and nobody there knew me.

Emily found me a two-bedroom rental in an older complex, with a grocery store downstairs and a major hospital a ten-minute walk away.

It wasn't much, but it was enough.

On moving day, I stood in the empty living room looking at the cardboard boxes on the floor, and I had the strangest feeling. It was like walking out of an enormous cage.

For five years with the Masons, I lived in a riverfront penthouse with a driver, and my walk-in closet overflowed with clothes and jewelry. I never once felt it was my home.

It was Andrew's home, and I was only a guest passing through.

Emily came in with a bag of fruit, kicked off her heels, and stepped into slippers. "What are you thinking about?"

"What comes next."

"Don't. Get your health back first. Everything else can wait."

She put the fruit in the fridge and turned around. "By the way, how much money do you have left?"

"About 127 thousand dollars in savings. With the final payments from a few marketing projects, maybe 150 thousand."

Emily frowned. "That's not much. Prenatal visits, the delivery, recovery, and then everything the baby needs after that. You'll have to find a way to earn."

"I know." I opened my laptop. "I'm going to take remote marketing projects. I built up some clients in Riverside, and a few of the old ones said they'd work with me remotely."

"Will that work?"

"We'll see."

The truth was, I wasn't sure either, but I had no way back.

For the next two months, I lived a life unlike anything I had known.

I got up at six and went down to the grocery store. I worked on client projects in the morning, went to prenatal appointments in the afternoon, and put together proposals at night.

The days were simple and regular, worlds away from my life with the Masons.

When the morning sickness was at its worst, I often threw up until there was nothing left and kept dry heaving.

Once, at three in the morning, I hung over the toilet for twenty minutes straight, and afterward I slumped onto the bathroom floor with the cold tiles against my back.

Right then, I wanted to cry more than anything. It wasn't because it was hard. It was because I remembered that if I were still with the Masons, someone would at least have handed me a glass of warm water.

Then again, if I had still been with the Masons, Andrew probably wouldn't have shown up at the bathroom door at three in the morning.

He always put work first.

For five years, he came home after midnight as a rule and vanished on business trips for a week or two. When I had a fever, he sent his assistant with medicine, told me on the phone to drink water, and hung up.

I used to think he wasn't good at showing his feelings. Later, I realized he didn't care.

In my third month, I went in for my first-trimester screening.

In the ultrasound room, the doctor pressed the probe to my stomach, and a tiny outline appeared on the screen.

The doctor sounded calm. "The baby's developing well, and everything is right where it should be."

But I stared at the tiny bright spot on the screen, and the tears came before I could stop them.

That was my baby. No matter who the father was, and no matter what anyone said, this child was mine.

The doctor handed me a tissue. "Everybody does that the first time they see the baby. It's normal."

I took the tissue and wiped my eyes. "Thank you."

After the ultrasound, I sent Emily a picture, and she wrote back right away.

Emily: [Oh my God, it's so tiny. It looks like a peanut.]

I smiled at the screen.

I replied: [Emily, I gave the baby a nickname.]

Emily: [What is it?]

I sent: [Pumpkin.]

Emily: [Why Pumpkin?]

I sent: [Because pumpkins are a fall thing, and the baby's due in October.]

Emily: [Okay. Pumpkin it is.]

Emily sent a string of emojis, and then one more line.

Emily: [Charlotte, you're going to be a great mom.]

I looked at that line, and my eyes started to sting again.

In my fourth month, something broke the calm.

That day, I was at home revising a proposal when my phone rang.

Andrew's name was on the screen.

My fingers locked around the phone.

The ringtone went on and on in the quiet room. I stared at his name, and my heart started to race.

Why was he calling me?

We hadn't been in touch since the divorce. I had changed my number, moved to a new city, and wiped all my social media.

He shouldn't have been able to find me.

It rang for a full thirty seconds. I didn't answer, and the call ended.

A minute later it rang again, and it was him.

I turned the phone face down.

After the third call, he stopped.

But a text came in right after.

Andrew: [Charlotte, did you move?]

It was four words, with no greeting and no small talk. That was Andrew all over.

My thumb hovered over the screen for a long time, and in the end, I closed the message.

I wouldn't answer. I couldn't.

The moment I had any contact with him, he would find out sooner or later that I was pregnant, and with his temper and his reach, that would only make everything worse.

Chapter 3

Emily looked at me without a word for a long moment. Finally, she sighed, "Fine. I'll help."

A week later, I moved from Riverside to Willowville, about 250 miles away.

It was a smaller city with a slower pace and cheaper rent, and nobody there knew me.

Emily found me a two-bedroom rental in an older complex, with a grocery store downstairs and a major hospital a ten-minute walk away.

It wasn't much, but it was enough.

On moving day, I stood in the empty living room looking at the cardboard boxes on the floor, and I had the strangest feeling. It was like walking out of an enormous cage.

For five years with the Masons, I lived in a riverfront penthouse with a driver, and my walk-in closet overflowed with clothes and jewelry. I never once felt it was my home.

It was Andrew's home, and I was only a guest passing through.

Emily came in with a bag of fruit, kicked off her heels, and stepped into slippers. "What are you thinking about?"

"What comes next."

"Don't. Get your health back first. Everything else can wait."

She put the fruit in the fridge and turned around. "By the way, how much money do you have left?"

"About 127 thousand dollars in savings. With the final payments from a few marketing projects, maybe 150 thousand."

Emily frowned. "That's not much. Prenatal visits, the delivery, recovery, and then everything the baby needs after that. You'll have to find a way to earn."

"I know." I opened my laptop. "I'm going to take remote marketing projects. I built up some clients in Riverside, and a few of the old ones said they'd work with me remotely."

"Will that work?"

"We'll see."

The truth was, I wasn't sure either, but I had no way back.

For the next two months, I lived a life unlike anything I had known.

I got up at six and went down to the grocery store. I worked on client projects in the morning, went to prenatal appointments in the afternoon, and put together proposals at night.

The days were simple and regular, worlds away from my life with the Masons.

When the morning sickness was at its worst, I often threw up until there was nothing left and kept dry heaving.

Once, at three in the morning, I hung over the toilet for twenty minutes straight, and afterward I slumped onto the bathroom floor with the cold tiles against my back.

Then again, if I had still been with the Masons, Andrew probably wouldn't have shown up at the bathroom door at three in the morning.

He always put work first.

I used to think he wasn't good at showing his feelings. Later, I realized he didn't care.

In my third month, I went in for my first-trimester screening.

In the ultrasound room, the doctor pressed the probe to my stomach, and a tiny outline appeared on the screen.

The doctor sounded calm. "The baby's developing well, and everything is right where it should be."

But I stared at the tiny bright spot on the screen, and the tears came before I could stop them.

That was my baby. No matter who the father was, and no matter what anyone said, this child was mine.

The doctor handed me a tissue. "Everybody does that the first time they see the baby. It's normal."

I took the tissue and wiped my eyes. "Thank you."

After the ultrasound, I sent Emily a picture, and she wrote back right away.

Emily: [Oh my God, it's so tiny. It looks like a peanut.]

I smiled at the screen.

I replied: [Emily, I gave the baby a nickname.]

Emily: [What is it?]

I sent: [Pumpkin.]

Emily: [Why Pumpkin?]

I sent: [Because pumpkins are a fall thing, and the baby's due in October.]

Emily: [Okay. Pumpkin it is.]

Emily sent a string of emojis, and then one more line.

Emily: [Charlotte, you're going to be a great mom.]

I looked at that line, and my eyes started to sting again.

In my fourth month, something broke the calm.

That day, I was at home revising a proposal when my phone rang.

Andrew's name was on the screen.

My fingers locked around the phone.

The ringtone went on and on in the quiet room. I stared at his name, and my heart started to race.

Why was he calling me?

We hadn't been in touch since the divorce. I had changed my number, moved to a new city, and wiped all my social media.

He shouldn't have been able to find me.

It rang for a full thirty seconds. I didn't answer, and the call ended.

A minute later it rang again, and it was him.

I turned the phone face down.

After the third call, he stopped.

But a text came in right after.

Andrew: [Charlotte, did you move?]

It was four words, with no greeting and no small talk. That was Andrew all over.

My thumb hovered over the screen for a long time, and in the end, I closed the message.

I wouldn't answer. I couldn't.

The moment I had any contact with him, he would find out sooner or later that I was pregnant, and with his temper and his reach, that would only make everything worse.